Hux can hear the raucous laughter from the officer’s lounge all the way down the corridor. He freezes near the entrance, already knowing what the topic of conversation is, the same thing it always is since those negotiations with the Resistance took place.
‘...seen that one?’
‘Mm, yes. Whenever I watch him talk all I can think of is how good he looked drooling around a mouthful of cock.’
Hux digs his nails into his palms hard enough to cut skin if he wasn’t wearing gloves.
‘How about that one where he’s taking them both up the arse?’
Noises of agreement filter out into the hall. ‘That’s a good one.’
‘I didn’t even know that was possible.’ A chorus of laughter.
‘That’s because you’re young and innocent.’
‘He’s got a point though, hasn’t he? That isn’t easy to do, it takes training, practice.’ The voice has a suggestive emphasis. ‘Slut’s done it before, probably with those two.’
‘I can’t believe we were taking orders from someone who spread his legs for the Resistance. It’s practically treason.’
‘Now that’s not fair, it can’t be called treason since he wasn’t giving them information, his tongue was far too busy with other things.’
There’s another round of laughter and it’s too much for Hux to take, hearing his officers discuss just how much of a whore he is behind his back. Not that they won’t say those things in front of him too, he’s lost all respect in their eyes and some of them are even bold enough to leer at or grope him openly. The entire crew knows he’s being relieved of his command because of what happened and they’re taking gleeful advantage of his inability to reprimand them.
Hux doesn’t remember much of what was done to him, not really, a few flashes of recollection while he’s awake and terrible nightmares that leave him achingly hard. It doesn’t matter though, not when there’s recorded evidence of the whole incident freely available on the Holonet. He’s positive everyone in the First Order has seen the holos and he forced himself to watch through every single one of them too because he needed to know. The holos are expertly made, he’ll give Organa that, graphic scenes of Hux being fucked and dominated in every way possible by Organa and one of her commanders while he moans and whines like a whore. She was careful to make sure that his head was turned towards the recorder as frequently as possible so there would be no doubt who he was or how much he was enjoying it. The memories make him feel sick, the sight of his own face twisted in pleasure, his voice needy, begging for release, body writhing against the smallest amount of friction, and he swallows thickly against the taste of bile in the back of his throat.
Hux goes back down the corridor, he can’t face his officers right now. The truth is that he was drugged and raped but he hasn’t told anyone that, he’s sure no one, not even in the First Order, is going to believe him because the mere idea that the upstanding General Organa and her commander could be capable of such an act is beyond ludicrous. It hurts though, how quickly and easily his crew accepted the convenient holos as proof that Hux was fraternising with the enemy, how no one even considered that there might be more to the situation then the obvious. But apparently they think it’s far more likely that Hux is just a slut who can’t get enough of being fucked and not an unwilling participant. The recordings were a strategic strike designed to disgrace him, remove him as an obstacle in her path to victory, and he could almost admire Organa’s successful execution of her plan if it wasn’t so abhorrent.
Hux can feel eyes on him as he walks back to his quarters, crew members staring at his arse, a few of them whistle at him and he grits his teeth trying not to look at them.
Fill: Hux/Leia/Poe, slutshaming (tw: noncon)
Hux can hear the raucous laughter from the officer’s lounge all the way down the corridor. He freezes near the entrance, already knowing what the topic of conversation is, the same thing it always is since those negotiations with the Resistance took place.
‘...seen that one?’
‘Mm, yes. Whenever I watch him talk all I can think of is how good he looked drooling around a mouthful of cock.’
Hux digs his nails into his palms hard enough to cut skin if he wasn’t wearing gloves.
‘How about that one where he’s taking them both up the arse?’
Noises of agreement filter out into the hall. ‘That’s a good one.’
‘I didn’t even know that was possible.’ A chorus of laughter.
‘That’s because you’re young and innocent.’
‘He’s got a point though, hasn’t he? That isn’t easy to do, it takes training, practice.’ The voice has a suggestive emphasis. ‘Slut’s done it before, probably with those two.’
‘I can’t believe we were taking orders from someone who spread his legs for the Resistance. It’s practically treason.’
‘Now that’s not fair, it can’t be called treason since he wasn’t giving them information, his tongue was far too busy with other things.’
There’s another round of laughter and it’s too much for Hux to take, hearing his officers discuss just how much of a whore he is behind his back. Not that they won’t say those things in front of him too, he’s lost all respect in their eyes and some of them are even bold enough to leer at or grope him openly. The entire crew knows he’s being relieved of his command because of what happened and they’re taking gleeful advantage of his inability to reprimand them.
Hux doesn’t remember much of what was done to him, not really, a few flashes of recollection while he’s awake and terrible nightmares that leave him achingly hard. It doesn’t matter though, not when there’s recorded evidence of the whole incident freely available on the Holonet. He’s positive everyone in the First Order has seen the holos and he forced himself to watch through every single one of them too because he needed to know. The holos are expertly made, he’ll give Organa that, graphic scenes of Hux being fucked and dominated in every way possible by Organa and one of her commanders while he moans and whines like a whore. She was careful to make sure that his head was turned towards the recorder as frequently as possible so there would be no doubt who he was or how much he was enjoying it. The memories make him feel sick, the sight of his own face twisted in pleasure, his voice needy, begging for release, body writhing against the smallest amount of friction, and he swallows thickly against the taste of bile in the back of his throat.
Hux goes back down the corridor, he can’t face his officers right now. The truth is that he was drugged and raped but he hasn’t told anyone that, he’s sure no one, not even in the First Order, is going to believe him because the mere idea that the upstanding General Organa and her commander could be capable of such an act is beyond ludicrous. It hurts though, how quickly and easily his crew accepted the convenient holos as proof that Hux was fraternising with the enemy, how no one even considered that there might be more to the situation then the obvious. But apparently they think it’s far more likely that Hux is just a slut who can’t get enough of being fucked and not an unwilling participant. The recordings were a strategic strike designed to disgrace him, remove him as an obstacle in her path to victory, and he could almost admire Organa’s successful execution of her plan if it wasn’t so abhorrent.
Hux can feel eyes on him as he walks back to his quarters, crew members staring at his arse, a few of them whistle at him and he grits his teeth trying not to look at them.